


15 Away And It's Almost 2

by salvadore



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: DC Comics Rebirth, Gen, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/pseuds/salvadore
Summary: Dick's undercover and no one has heard from him. But he sends Jason coordinates. It's not a question of will Jason go. It's how much trouble is waiting for Jason when he gets there.





	15 Away And It's Almost 2

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amurtinyburr12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amurtinyburr12/gifts).



Jason’s in the middle of a slow night of patrol in Gotham, rolling through the darkened streets on his motorcycle when Oracle breaks the uncharacteristic quiet. She says, “Incoming from Nightwing.”

Dick has been undercover for a month on an OPs, the details of which Jason suspects only Bruce knows. It’s not as if Jason was given a chance to interrogate him, though. Dick went off the grid while Jason was out of town with the Outlaws and he had to hear second hand from Duke. Jason remembers the twisting he’d had in his guts at the news. He feels it again now.

Pulling over into an alley, Jason finds a secluded spot to settle the motorcycle in neutral. He holds the weight of the idling machine between thighs and planted feet. With the rumble of the engine for a backdrop, Jason listens for Dick to speak. Except, to his surprise, Dick doesn’t. There’s silence before O forwards an encrypted message to him on a private channel. And then Dick is offline as quick as he appeared. Jason waits a moment for a reaction from one of the Robins, or for Oracle to elaborate. But there’s nothing.

Jason pulls the message up on the interior screen of his helmet. It's coordinates for a club in Bludhaven and instructions to come dressed down. ‘Civilians On Scene.’ There’s a meeting time attached for 1:40AM. Jason has a small window in which to make it, as it’s almost 1AM already.

Jason hesitates. It’s not that he’s concerned the city will set fire without him. No, it's something else that preoccupies him. A year ago, Jason might have considered not showing up. Two years ago he never would’ve gone. But then Dick had up and “died.” Even if it was fake, even if Dick came back sheepish and looking for help, he was alive. And Jason had felt more than relief. He’d felt a tug of an emotion crushed by time, trauma, and force of will. But it had resurrected along with Dick on that rooftop. And it worries Jason.

Then there’s the lack of information from Dick which is always a bad sign. This feels like Dick’s knack for getting in over his head. Jason’s bets that Dick stubbornly refused to ask for help until something went sideways.

Finally there’s the expectation. It meant something that Dick had reached out him instead of the other options. It was important that he expected Jason to appear.

Jason runs a gloved thumb across the gas gauge on his motorcycle as he considers the fastest route. He calculates the timetable. If he speeds, Jason thinks he can make it on time.

-

Over the bridge into Bludhaven, the coordinates lead to an old brick building. From outward appearance it looks like an ordinary dive bar. But behind the facade, there’s a four story housing unit from Bludhaven's early days. Someone else had come along and thought it made a better place to drink. There’s a splash of neon in the window in the shape of a flamingo for flourish.

From the street, Jason can hear thumping of a bass. Then a door opens, leading up from the basement level and the higher tones of pop music spill onto the street. A couple stumbles up the steps, and when the door shuts behind them the music fades back to the bass.

The couple make it to the street where they sway against each other and the brick of the building. The neon glows off their skin. They don’t seem to notice him standing in the shadows. Not when they’re preoccupied with catching each other, keeping each other steady with little luck. They’re both women and they fall against each other as they dissolve into giggles. One of them pushes their hair back, big curls that she holds away from her face so the other woman can lean down to kiss her. Jason connects some dots.

He’s dressed in civis. Probably at a gay bar. Where Dick called him. It’s not shocking, he tells himself. It’s only a suspicion, and he shouldn’t feel like this anyway.

And yet, there’s that twist in his gut again. Jason opens and closes his hands on air. The past year Jason has been trying to unlearn running, but right now his head is telling him to bolt. Whatever mess Dick is about to drag him into can’t be worth the fall out. Jason knows this.

It rings like a mantra in his head as he tucks the front of his white under shirt into his waistband. What a bad idea this is. He’d stripped and stowed his gear, and he feels bare. Jason drags his fingers through his helmet hair, and takes a deep breath. He feels presentable at least. He makes up a role in his head in case it becomes necessary. A jock, no, a grad student blowing off some steam after a bad day. A local from the university at least. Jason imagines himself as the sort of asshole that would call themselves the “big man on campus.” He lets that shine through an ingratiating smile that he turns on for the bouncer.

He gets hit with humid air when the doors open. Inside the club the lights pulsate over bodies in motion. The music swallows up any other sound, the bouncer didn’t even bother trying to speak. Jason feels sweat start to bead at his temple as he looks around. He moves toward the bar, and tries to scout the crowd for Dick. The largest area is the dance floor, a space sunk even further into the basement club. The bar stands elevated over it, but there are so many people dancing and moving Jason can’t make out individuals. He keeps looking, but he hopes Dick will message him again with more directions.

Jason thinks he hears a shout under the music. It’s such a faint sound that he writes it off immediately as part of the track. The track changes over and the crowd swells with a cheer, people jumping with their arms raised and waving exuberantly. Amongst the crowd, Jason can now spot someone shoving away from the dance floor and toward the bar.

Moving people out of the way isn't inconspicuous, and this person is moving with a purpose. A small group follows in their wake, just out of reach, in slow stalking steps. They stop short of the steps up to the bar, watching like predators.

It’s impossible not to recognize Dick when he’s standing right in front of him. Even mussed and breathing heavy. He’s wearing a tight, tailored long sleeve shirt, the sleeves rolled up. He’s sweated through it so it's translucent in places. Paired with the tight fitting jeans he’s wearing, he looks business casual. He looks tech start-up style smarmy. He looks like playboy Richie Grayson, hair slicked back the way he and Bruce always do it for the galas. But he's Dick Grayson, which means somehow he’s also glowing.

Over Dick’s shoulder, Jason can make out the three men that followed him out of the crowd. The way they’re watching squashes any questions of coincidence. They were clearly following with intent.

The pounding of the music is still deafening, and there's a haze to the room. It isn’t just puffs of pink and blue vape smoke, though Jason can see that rising in plooms over the crowd. No, it’s something under and around them all as if there's a smoke machine on somewhere. He files that away.

The truth is there is too much stimuli in the room to do more than that. The excess light and noise make Jason hyper vigilant. And there’s Dick. He keeps grabbing and keeping Jason’s attention. Looking at him again, Jason watches how his chest is still heaving like he’s run the length of Gotham to get to Jason.

Dick breaks out a big smile for Jason. And reaches out a hand as he steps within arms reach. The bass pounds underfoot, a cry goes up over the crowd as something popular hits the speakers. Dick gets close enough that Jason can feel the shape of the words he shouts into Jason’s ear.

“Thank you for coming!” Dick drapes his arms on Jason’s shoulders, and Jason can't help but notice his lashes look darker and longer than usual. That his eyes look blown out in a way Jason hopes is because of the enclosed space, but suspects is something else.

Dick says, "You got here quick," close enough to Jason’s ear for him to hear it.

“Lucky for you it was a slow night.”

Jason feels Dick laugh more than he hears it. He shivers involuntarily when Dick's finger brush the buzz of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“What's the sitrep?” Jason asks, eyeing the approach of the group.

Before Dick can reply there’s a voice shouting, “Is this your boyfriend, Todd?” right beside them.

The one who shouted is right up against Dick’s side just to get close enough to be heard. He reaches out a hand and touches Dick’s shoulder. Jason looks at the hand on Dick then at the man’s smiling face. He looks a bit like Hal or Ollie - very pretty but with a smile Jason doesn’t trust.

“Do I know you?” Jason shouts back. He tries to smile the way he did at the bouncer, smarmy and aiming for disarming. He thinks he puts more teeth into it this time.

The guy gets up close to Jason’s ear. “You’re Todd’s boyfriend, right?” he asks again. “Your name starts with a J or something, right? I thought he called … ”

His voice gets drowned out. When he shouts again, he says, “I’m Noah!” and his hand drops from Dick’s shoulder to reach out in a handshake.

Bewildered, Jason shakes his hand. The group isn’t intimidating given a better look. They’re all preppy guys dressed just like Dick. It’d be safe to assume they had all left the office together with blazers slung over their shoulders. The boys smile at him, the two Jason doesn’t know wipe sweat from their brow or shake it from their hair. Noah crosses his arms, concealing where pit-stains have darkened his shirt. One of the guys even looks Jason over, assessing him. The smile takes a flirtatious edge.

“We told Todd not to drunk text!” the flirty one shouts when the music dips low enough. It’s loud enough that a few people look over. Dick just laughs, head falling back so his throat is a long curve. Jason can see his Adam’s apple move when he swallows. Dick’s fingers curl in the shoulders of his tank top, and none of this was what Jason expected on the ride over here.

“I’m not drunk,” Dick shouts back. To the group the way his words collide together he sounds inebriated and denying it. He’s making eye-contact with Jason, though. And Jason knows Dick.

“I’m not drunk,” Dick shouts again. To just Jason he says, “Follow my lead.”

Those fingers draw over his shoulders and trail down his arms until Dick has his hands captured. Their fingers intertwined and Jason thinks, yeah he’s following Dick’s lead. Or it’s going to turn out he crashed somewhere on the interstate and this is a dream.

Dick's intent is clear as they descend the steps, back into the heart of the crowd. He squeezes Jason's fingers between his own, and the look he gives Jason's shoulder is an easy to interpret question. ‘ _Can you dance?’_ Jason rolls his eyes at the unspoken and unintended challenge.

Secretly, Jason knows he should thank Kori for those nights they spent in Miami when she dragged him out dancing. It’s unfortunate the crowd is packed in tight, and Jason can't show off. The spiteful side of him can imagine pulling Dick into a spin, can imagine trying out the tango moves Kori taught him on nights when the heat kept tourists from the club's and they had room to really practice.

Jason snags Dick around the waist, pulling him backwards. Anyone else would've tripped on their feet and Jason would've caught them. But even drunk off the crowd, the energy or maybe even liquer, Dick keeps steady. He leans into Jason's body so they're pressed back to front, and starts them swaying.

This is all a show for Dick’s entourage, Jason reminds himself. Dick drops his head back, resting it on Jason's shoulder. His back bows as he starts rolling his hips. Jason can feel the play of muscles across Dick’s abs. Dick is holding his hand down, thumb running over Jason’s skin in smoothing circles. It's just for the mission, Jason tells himself, pressing his cheek gently, carefully against Dick’s temple. His lips brush Dick’s skin and he can taste perspiration. 

There’s open jealousy on Noah’s face. At least it’s working.

 

They dance like that for three songs. The whole time Jason holds his breath waiting for Dick to explain the plan. There’s nothing forthcoming. Just the dragging, torturous touch of their bare skin.

This close, Jason can see there’s more than perspiration that’s making Dick shine. There’s glitter across his cheek bones, his throat, and even along the line of bare skin where his shirt is unbuttoned to below his pecs. Jason tears his gaze back up Dick’s body in time to see his lips part. He sees more than hears Dick mouth, “Jason.” And it’s completely far-fetched, but Jason thinks the shout he heard was Dick calling his name.

Finally, Noah’s gaze drifts away. He gets dragged into the sway of someone’s hips and the shine of their smile. When he turns their backs to them, Dick turns into Jason’s arms. Jason presses his hands to the small of Dick’s back, bringing his body in closer.

Draped over Jason’s shoulders, Dick presses his lips to Jason’s ears and finally explains. “I need you to make sure Noah stays distracted.”

“Is he the target?”  He’s careful to hide the words in the curve of Dick’s cheek in case anyone is reading lips.

“He’s the owner’s kid. This bar is home base.”

Jason reads ‘ _Front,’_ into the words. “He’s involved?”

Dick shakes his head in response.

“He’s just,” Dick pauses, weighing his words. From this close, Jason can see his jaw work, and the smallest of tells in the way Dick tenses at the temples. “He’s _attentive_. ”

“Where’d you find him?” Jason asks. The song changes and a cheer goes up, sweeping away the question. As Jason pictures Dick as Todd - going to work with Noah. The way Dick probably smiled at him, and flirted until Noah invited him out to a bar where he could show off.

“What?” Dick asks. And Jason lies.

“Where do I come in?” Jason asks instead. He’s trying to bite back his jealousy, but it must show. Dick’s fingers curl in Jason’s hair in a soothing, reassuring motion. Goosebumps break out on Jason’s arms from the shudder that the touch causes. He leans into the touch and there’s a moment where they’re just moving slowly against each other. It’s the most eye contact Jason thinks he’s had with Dick for a long time. The longest amount of freedom to just look at Dick’s face, take in the lines coming in by his eyes, the way he wets his lower lip as he keeps peripheral track of Noah and the other two.

Then Dick swallows. His fingers tighten, and then begin traveling down Jason’s neck.

“He likes guys like me,” Dick admits. “But only because his ex was a wide shouldered tight end for BHU.” Dick isn’t subtle in his meaning here either, pressings his hands into Jason’s shoulder blades.

“So I’m the distraction.”

Dick’s smile, at least, is sheepish. “I need to check the basement. If I’m not back in thirty -”

“If you’re not back in thirty, I’m pulling the fire alarm,” Jason interrupts.

Dick pulls back so they’re eye to eye. He smiles bright and amused up at Jason. His fingers have slipped beneath the collar of Jason’s shirt.

“See you in ten, then,” Dick says. Then he slips away into the crowd, taking his touch and body heat with him.

It doesn’t take Noah long to notice Dick is gone. He nearly pushes his dance partner away from him as he starts looking frantically around. The other guy grows bored after the second time he’s shoved, and rolls his eyes before disappearing into the crowd. Noah doesn’t notice.

Jason steps up to him, hands open and light on Noah’s shoulder as he gets close enough to be heard.

“He went to the bathroom.”

Brown eyes land on him as Noah turns to him surprised. A look of disappointment quickly replaces the surprise. He covers Jason’s hand with his own, and intent on shoving Jason away.

“It’s fine,” Jason yells.

“What?”

Jason smiles. It’s the perfect invitation to step close, grabbing onto the linen of Noah’s off-white dress shirt. Jason slides close, pulling his full weight over Noah, and watches him suck his lower lip between his teeth. It’s not subtle how he looks Jason over, taking in his firm legs, and the way the light undershirt stretches over his chest.

Jason repeats himself softly, breath hot and wet against Noah’s cheek. “It’s fine. He’ll be back. Let him be drunk, and dance with me.”

“He’ll join us?” Noah asks. In a gutsy move, Noah’s hand slips into the back-pocket of Jason’s jeans, and squeezes his ass. 

 

Dick takes longer than thirty minutes. The dancing worked at first, and Jason almost garnered them more time by inviting Noah for a drink. But Noah’s a sharper read than he was expecting. His urge to find Dick re-emerges incrementally once they hit the 25 minute mark, until he gets fed up with Jason’s sweet-mutterings.

“I’m going to find him,” Noah shouts.

The other friends that were also following Dick split suspicion by one following Noah and the other sharing a ‘what can you do’ look with Jason before returning to dancing.

Jason is expecting something to go wrong as a result of losing Noah, but not for Dick to find him while Jason is trying to search the crowd. He’s wild-eyed with a red bruising beginning to form under his left eye. There’s more glitter on his skin than before he left. And he curls his fingers in a tight grip around Jason’s wrist.

Jason wants to make use of all of his height and scan the crowd for whoever hit Dick. But Dick is pulling him impatiently toward the edge of the dance floor.

"Still interested in pulling the fire alarm?" Dick shouts over his shoulder. “This building needs to be evacuated.”

-

Jason gets separated from Dick in the chaos that follows the fire alarm. The music cuts out, and the club is flooded with light. Everything from the sticky floor to the abandoned glasses covered in fingerprints are starkly presented under the floodlights. An employee shouts out evacuation instructions under the sound of the blaring alarm.

And Dick’s hand slips from Jason’s arm, and he’s suddenly gone.

There’s so much more noise. There are people starting to cry and starting to freak out. The staff are baffled and, trying try to contain the drunk patrons. And Jason has ink on his hand from the pulled alarm. Any moment now BHPD is going to be called, and Jason knows they’ll want to close down the scene and take in everyone. Certainly they’ll want to check for the culprit.

Jason follows the flow of the crowd out to the street, careful to look as disbelieving as all the rest. The way he can’t stop snapping his head around looking for a hint of Dick in the people around him helps Jason with that image.

He doesn't find Dick though.

-

Jason is speeding through Bludhaven from the first safe house he checked, on to a second when Oracles heralds him on the comms. "Incoming from Nightwing," she says.

And Jason feels like he’s hit. The full weight of the months Dick was last undercover are on his shoulders, and he has to remember that this isn’t last time. Feels that twist in his gut as a memory, every moment of worry and confused attraction from the last few hours. It makes him angry.

“Is he alive, O?” Jason asks

She seems startled by the question. It’s all Barbara in the way she responds, voice softer. “Definitely alive,” she says.

“Good,” Jason says. Then mutes the comm link with a press to the side of his helmet.

Jason turns the motorcycle around, speeding through a median and using it to vault a lane. His grip tightens on the gears and he revs the engine. He hits twenty miles over the speed limit headed for the interstate.

 

 

 

 _Pick up the phone, I swear to God, I miss you_  
I love the way you sound when it’s dark outside  
Pancakes, Champagne, 15 away, it’s almost 2  
Those hands, the way your fingers fit between mine

_"Pancakes" LANY_

**Author's Note:**

> Amurtinyburr12, this veered a little off course once Dick was undercover. Hopefully you still enjoy it, and Jason. Thank you so much for participating in the exchange!
> 
> So many thanks to empires for the hand holding and betaing. Couldn't have done it without you honestly.


End file.
